Dreams
by Artemis-E
Summary: Another short story with Elladan and Elrohir. A particularly tramautic, and defining, event from the past is still quite vivid in the twins' minds.


((Well, here I am again. Disclaimer time! I know it's everybody's favorite part. My name is not Tolkien, and consequently none of this really belongs to me, nor do I claim to own it. I own only my own odd little brain which comes up with these ideas for stories. Heh. Anyway, much thankies yet again to Infinitys-End(aka "Bodldops") for being my beta! *hugs* So much help, you are. Yoda-speak, hah(I don't own that either) So ah, that's it.*grins*))

It was dark. 

It was dark and damp. The smell on the air was heavy with the traces of mildew from stagnated water, but also with something else. It was a stench, of an appalling and familiar kind. _Yrch_ were here, that was for certain. 

He was walking along a rough-hewn corridor in this dark horrible cave. No, he was running, and he was not alone. Elrohir, his brother, was there as well. They were running through almost impenetrable darkness, towards the distant but unmistakable sounds of the agitated orcs who dwelt in this cave. He felt fear - cold, sharp, intense fear, and he knew that his brother felt the same. 

Then suddenly there were dark figures all around them. _Yrch_...at least, that is what he was sure they were from the smell. Everything from that point on for a while was hard to focus on and the only thought he had was to avoid hurting his brother. The screams of orcs dying all around him hardly reached his ears. The fear he had felt was now accompanied by an almost blinding rage. Elladan was a truly gentle soul at heart. This pure and murderous anger would have shocked him if he had been conscious of it. These orcs were keeping him from something very important. They had done something awful beyond comprehension. Elladan was then a deadly warrior with one goal in mind. He was going to kill every one of these foul things that got in his path. He couldn't think. He could barely see. The orcs were dying as soon as they came within the reach of his sword, but he was not aware of even how he managed to kill them

Finally, he broke through the line of orcs that had been impeding his progress. A silence had fallen that was broken only by his, and his brother's, heavy breathing. Elladan forced his way past the hideous mess that was left of the orcs, not hesitating for even a moment. He heard his brother following, not half a step behind him. 

Then he came upon a sight that made him feel as if he had turned to ice. 

Naneth... 

Kind, sweet, gentle naneth...the beautiful elf whose shining smile had given Elladan joy on even his most morose days. The graceful and lovely Lady of Imladris always brought cheer wherever she was present. She was the lady who had captured Elrond's heart so many years ago. She was Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen's ever loving and caring mother. Now, Elladan hardly recognized her. He had seen horrible sights in battle. He had seen blood and injuries worse than he liked to recall. But this...this was beyond all of it. She had been tortured. 

Even as he knelt at her side, he knew she was still alive. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. He looked up to meet his brother's eyes briefly. The expression his brother met him with was almost too much to bear. He felt tears coming unbidden down his cheeks as he held his mother so carefully in his arms, heedless of the blood that was seeping into his tunic. He had not cried since he was an elfling, but he did not even have the presence of mind to be ashamed of tears now. 

__

No, the word echoed sharply through his mind. _No, no, no..._

"No!" 

Elladan's anguished cry jolted him out of his dream. He shot up in his bed abruptly with a gasp. The pillows that had remained on his bed were then scattered left and right with his sudden movement. He froze. He was in no cave. He was in his room. There were no orcs, and the only smell in the room was that of clean linens. He put a hand to his shirt, but there was nothing damp there, no blood. He was alone in his peaceful room. 

Moonlight streamed through his windows and fell across the bed, illuminating the whole room with a faint silver glow. The sound of crickets chirping outside was faint but discernable. He guessed that it was sometime past midnight.

The young elf took a deep, shaky breath and fell back onto the bed with a soft thump. A little over five hundred years had passed since that day, and still that one nightmare haunted him. It dogged his very steps, and every time he had it, he was faced with that same horror. Each time it was as vivid and terrifying as it had been in reality.

There would be no more true rest for him tonight. Elladan swung his legs around so that he could sit on the edge of his bed. He wiped a hand across his slightly damp forehead. How many nights had he woken up like this? He was not sure, but it felt as if it were at least a hundred. He shook his head as he stared at the floor, his mood suddenly pensive. He hoped that he had not awakened Elrohir. His brother was only in the next room over, and walls were fairly thin in Imladris. 

With another deep breath, this one a good deal steadier than the last, he rose from his bed and paced across his room to the windows. They had been closed, due to an earlier bout of rain, but he now opened them and let in the cool, moist night air. The fresh air of Imladris always helped to calm him. 

It was not long before a soft knock came at Elladan's door. He sighed and shook his head. 

"Go back to bed, Elrohir," He called quietly, though he did not expect to be heeded. It was only after that he spoke that he realized that remaining quiet would have been a better plan. As he had predicted, the door slid open slowly, and his brother slipped in silently. He had to have just gotten out of bed himself, Elladan noticed, from the state of his hair. Elrohir walked a few feet across the room but stopped before he had come to the window. 

"What happened?" Elrohir asked him pointedly. He did not sound annoyed, but he obviously expected a prompt answer.

Elrohir had a brief thought to tease Elladan about falling out of bed, or some other nonsense, but one good look at his brother immediately quelled such ideas. That expression was one he had seen far too often not to recognize. If the light had not been so scant, he might have suspected he saw the faint shadow of tears in his brother's eyes. Elrohir's expression of mild curiosity turned into one of slightly puzzled concern.

Elladan wanted to say that it was nothing. That would have been a lie, and Elladan could not lie to his brother. He had no true wish to do so anyway. He started to say something, but then stopped, and was quiet for a moment longer before he had decided what to say. 

"I had a dream," He replied dully. His stormy-grey eyes met his twin's for only a brief moment before he gazed back out the window. Again, he knew he could have done better than that to keep Elrohir from worrying. Frankly though, he was in no mood to be evasive after reliving that memory once again.

"That same dream," Elrohir said softly, his attention not wandering from his brother's face. His confusion was now dispelled, as with that one simple statement, his brother had explained everything. He felt a strong sense of sympathy, as he knew exactly what it felt like. Elrohir understood now why his brother was out of bed this hour. Whether Elladan admitted it or not, he needed his brother at times like this. Elrohir was well aware of that and he did not know why his twin would not admit it. 

Elrohir waited for a moment, and when Elladan did not reply, he continued. "Sweet Elbereth, Elladan, why do feel you must not speak of it? And to me of all people? You know that I understand, and yet you insist on behaving as if you carry the burden of that memory alone." His tone was sharper than he had intended. It was not real anger that compelled him to speak in such a way. Elrohir often became exasperated with Elladan's attempts to close off some of his own feelings from the rest of Arda. More specifically, perhaps, he tried to keep his feelings from his brother. It wasn't as if he were going to mock his brother for needing support. Elrohir at once regretted speaking so harshly, but he said nothing more. He hated seeing Elladan this way.

Elladan turned, jolted out of his morose mood by those words. He was not angered, because he saw the truth that was in them. He took a breath and pursed his lips for a moment before speaking.

"I apologize, Elrohir. You are right," He agreed sheepishly. "I don't know why I even try to ever keep anything from you. You know I only do so when I wish to spare you the pain of having to recall such memories. You are my little brother, 'Ro. I don't want to see you as miserable as I am," He managed a small smile at that. Elrohir often protested at being called the 'little' brother. He truly was the younger, but only by a few minutes. 

Elrohir gave him a thoroughly droll look. "You would feel the same if I were a hundred years older than you," He informed Elladan brusquely. "I think you inherited more of Ada's responsibility than I did. I suppose you had to have some fashion of compensation since I obviously inherited most of the wit and good looks," He said calmly. He walked over to join his brother at the window. "But seriously," The younger twin's demeanor darkened somewhat. "Elladan...I have the same dream, you know. You needn't ever feel that you are alone. You can always talk to me. You need to do so sometimes," Elrohir said.

"I know," Elladan said quietly. 

"Then please remember that, will you?" Elrohir asked, but he could not sound appropriately exasperated. Instead, it was only his worry over his brother's condition that was evident. "I swear, you are so silly at times. You may remember that I am fully grown, and I do not coddling, even if it is with only good intentions. Besides, you know that if you keep it to yourself, then you will hardly be able to cope well." Elrohir felt that he had to remind his brother of these things every once in a while. Elladan nodded.

"A brother should not even have to ask. You have my apologies once again." He ran one of his hands across the windowsill idly, tracing the grains of the wood. He already felt a good deal better. It seemed that his twin could dispel those lingering negative feelings by simply being present. Elrohir seemed to always know exactly what Elladan needed to hear. "I do not know why I am suddenly so beset by bad memories," He admitted. "However, I do know that I will have no respite from them while I am here." 

"We have lingered in Imladris for as long as we can stand, I believe," Elrohir said with a sigh. Would there ever be a time when they could rest? Would they ever be able to truly come home? When would the nightmares stop? He did not know, and was not sure he would ever know. As he looked past Elladan, and to the treetops and the rest of Imladris beyond the window, he suddenly wished that things could go back to the way they had been. The way they were before Celebrian left. He had wished that so many times before, and he felt rather childish for it. Still, he would never forget those years not so long ago when he and Elladan had led such happy and carefree lives. 

"I promised Ada I would speak with him. In the morning, I will do so. Do you truly wish to leave, Elrohir? It is good to be home, isn't it?" Elladan asked. This was a bit of a rhetorical question, and one he asked himself often. It was good to be home, indeed, but there was no rest for him here. There was no peace to be had. Some comfort, perhaps, but even that effect never lasted very long. 

Elladan felt a sudden pang of guilt when he thought of Elrond. They had hardly seen their father for so many years. They would arrive in Imladris, and would leave ere Elrond had a proper chance to even see them, outside of serious matters. This last visit they had stayed for much longer than usual, but was a week or two really long enough to catch up with a hundred years worth of lost time? 

"It is good to be home, yes," Elrohir said finally in answer to his twin's question. "But we cannot stay." 

"No, we can't," Elladan agreed with some resignation. He shook his head. "Elrohir, you should get some rest. If we are leaving-" 

"Oh, will you give it up?" Elrohir interrupted his brother rather rudely. "I know you won't, so I won't either. Why don't we go down to the stables? No use in wasting time when we could be preparing for our departure," He said in a business-like tone. He stopped to gaze at his brother studiously.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his lingering concern evident. Elladan smiled, though a little weakly, and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. 

"I'm fine now," He said and nodded. "Come, you are quite correct yet again. Idle time is wasted, as Erestor has been so kind to remind us more than once," He said and then turned to walk towards the door. Elrohir smiled in return before he gave his brother a very undignified snort.

"Of course I am correct. When will you ever learn that I always am?" He asked. Elladan, however, had already disappeared through the door before Elrohir had finished his question. The elf shook his head and trotted after his wayward twin.


End file.
